


Late night comforts

by Penstrokes



Category: The Book of Mormon - Parker/Stone/Lopez
Genre: M/M, birthday fic, can be read as romantic or friendship, my Elder Thomas is named Mathias instead of Chris
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-03
Updated: 2016-03-03
Packaged: 2018-05-24 13:56:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6155839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Penstrokes/pseuds/Penstrokes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elder McKinley has had to endure eight hours of his own personal guilt fueled hell for as long as he can remember. He should expect no less from a sinner such as himself. Elder Thomas has had enough just standing by.<br/>He cannot do much, but he can offer this.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Late night comforts

**Author's Note:**

> Special thanks to trick-r-treason on tumblr for helping me both beta read and letting me bounce HCs off of them.

Tonight was a night like any other for Elder McKinley, another eight hours in hell, a mockery of everything he was and what he stood for. His only reprieve was the feeble masquerade that he thought could save his soul, along with all the others he sought to reach out to, along with his fellow Elders of District Nine. As much as he tried turning it off, he had to wonder, in some part of him, if it was all worth it.

The fires of hell faded into the dark of night. A moonlit room, a wooden ceiling graced only with the silent shadows of the outside world greeted him at first. He’d long since lost count of how many times he’d woken to the same things. The ticking of the clock in the dual living, kitchen and dining room coupled with the faint steady breathings of the others-or at least the ones in the rooms next to his own.He wiped away the tears with the back of his hand. He expected to see his mission partner, Elder Thomas-he’d long since forgotten his first name- to still be sleeping through yet another one of these late night fits. 

Rolling over to his side, he was met with the frowning, troubled figure of his companion and roommate for the last fifteen months. He seemed to be thinking, fighting something in that head of his.  
Connor pushed himself up off the bed, trying to compose himself quickly. Steadying his breathing and attempting to throw on his expected smiling demeanor.

“Elder Thomas, I apologize-” The smaller man said nothing but cut him off anyhow. He got up suddenly, quickly closing the distance between them quite fast. To be fair, there was not much space between them in the first place. His expression was far angier, more disturbed. Connor could feel himself falter, he’d finally had it, finally had it up to here with his constant screaming and whimpering in the dead of night. His hell dreams were finally leaking over into the real world. Or maybe he hadn’t really woken up. Worse yet, what if he had just woken up. He felt sick to his stomach. 

He was caught off guard as the blonde wrapped his arms around him, pushing him to the bed. Connor’s eyes grew wide in panic and confusion. His mind was overwhelmed, still swimming. There was the undeniable fact that deep down inside he liked it, and that made him feel wrong, disgusting. An abomination.

“What are you doing?” He asked, keeping his voice low and hurried, as if he could not get Elder Thomas off of him fast enough. 

This only made the other man hold onto him tighter, leaving him squirming and tired. “Isn’ it obvious?” He mumbled, head buried into his chest. 

This only added to the confusion, “What do you mean?” He tried prying him off but Elder Thomas had his legs wrapped around his own.  
“Elder, you’re breaking the rules.” He reminded him, sounding more frantic, Connor now found himself plastered to the bed, pinned by sheer weight-not that Elder Thomas was heavy or fat in any way. Plying his arms off wasn’t getting anywhere so he tried prying his legs off. Squirming and kicking, he grew winded. As his assault began to dwindle, the blonde’s only endured.His leg began to succumb to it all and fall asleep. He could feel the numbness starting to settle in.

Elder McKinley had to give up, falling still with labored breathing, Poptarts glanced at the redhead, watching.It was already hot in Uganda,made worse only by the squirming and rubbing of bodies and blankets and clothes. Minutes of silence crawled by without so much a sign of fighting back. Satisfied, he untangled himself from the district leader’s legs. 

Elder Thomas finally spoke up, the first in what felt like hours. Connor couldn’t be bothered to check the time but he knew, from experience that they still had an hour at least before they were expected to fall back into their routine.  
“My name is Mathias. But-you can call me Mattie if you want.” He began with a soft voice that contradicted the fury of a fight that they’d put up just moments before.

Connor glanced down at the man laying on his chest. Even in this light he was rather pale, his gray eyes seemed to have more color to them, darker, almost black. It was if he held the night in those eyes that saw all, the night that held secrets and whisked them away from the light. 

“You look like a Christopher, if I had to guess.” Connor commented, unknowingly wrapping an arm around Mathias’ waist. It was soft and squishy, firmer muscles tucked under it. Connor idly mused about them, wondering if he’d gained them from all the dancing. The part of him he couldn’t help had to admit that it was comforting, almost addicting in a sense. He never wanted to let go. Despite whatever guilty feelings that might have come along with the act, it also brought forth a soothing comfort that one could only get from physical interactions.

Mathias let out a soft laugh, “That’s my middle name. My parents couldn’t decide, so they went with both.” 

Things were left unsaid, hanging in the silence. There was something on the edge of Connor’s mind, something he wasn’t sure he wholly wanted to know. 

“Did I wake you up?” He asked after much hesitation. Connor found solace when he woke up after a hell dream to find his mission companion still asleep. If he could only keep it to himself, the actual screaming, crying and guilt that weighed on his soul at every waking and sleeping moment that damned his existence. 

“I hear them all the time.” Mathias admitted guiltily, as if he too were bearing the shame. 

Whatever happiness he’d begun to feel had vanished, leaving him with his self loathing thoughts. Here he’d thought that Elder Thomas of all people would be trying to console him, no, he was probably here to tell him to quiet down, or how disappointed he was in having a person like him as a leader, even worse, as the person he was stuck with, sullying his once in a lifetime chance to truly leave a mark on both this world and the next. 

“And that’s why I came here to stop it. You-you don’t deserve this.” Mathias explained, he almost sounded like he might cry at the end. 

Connor didn’t know how to respond, what was he supposed to say?

“ I couldn’t have asked for someone better, and I mean it.” His face began to scrunch up, almost as if he might even cry.  
Connor felt his breath hitch as he saw how distraught his companion was.

Mathias couldn’t continue, not without the threat of tears. There was guilt, at seeing him cry, but there was also a sense of pride and joy. The knowledge that he was not forsaken, not entirely at least. 

It was his turn to comfort the smaller yet older man. He ran his fingers through Poptarts’ hair with hand, lightly patting his back with the other. Connor liked the feeling, of having his fingers playing with the blondes’ hair. His guilt came back again as he imagined what it’d be like to run his fingers through Elder Price’s hair, as if he were cheating on his companion who’d poured so much of feelings to help a sinner like himself.

“I’m feeling better now.” Connor assured him, he wasn’t feeling as great as he’d like to be, but no one ever was. 

Having calmed down a little more, Poptarts looked back up at him, looking tired, drained.

“Go back to bed Poptarts.”  
In the growing light the Elder could see the other’s featured and expressions more clearly now.  
The blonde closed his eyes, not moving.  
Connor sighed.  
“I meant your own bed, Elder Thomas.”  
The man in question opened one of his to look at him almost mischievously.  
“I don’t want to.” Came the muffled reply.  
“Elder Thomas, please.”

He didn’t budge.

“I’m not going back to sleep if that’s what you’re wondering.”

This elicited movement from the stubborn bed intruder. He propped himself on his elbows.  
“I’m staying here.”  
An annoyed silence hung between them, before Mattie continued.  
“Besides, I...miss sharing a bed with someone.” His eyes grew downcast for a moment before it faded into his more cheerful attitude. 

It was another silent battle of the wills, thankfully a much less physical one. Finally, Connor conceded.

They shifted around, Poptarts now laying next to him instead of on top of him, not that he complained too much about it. Up close it was almost startling to see a small amount of stubble on his otherwise boyish face. They snuggled up against one another. Light was coming, but for now Connor would just enjoy it, the warmth and softness of another human being. He drifted off to sleep once again, and no hell dreams were there to torment him.


End file.
